Blood Origins
by Szept
Summary: If someone were to ask (and she knows no one will) Hawke would say that it is the world that views magic backwards. -The story of a blood mage raised in Tevinter.


The sun is cruel in its radiance. Beating down on Cassia's head as she sits propped by a mast. She nonetheless shivers at every gust of cool wind gliding over her heated skin, she's not used to the southern cold. Bautiful day may it be but it's just not the same as in Minrathous, way too far south to be properly warmed by the Anderfels' dry winds as well as warm oceanic currents. She looks around, again. She's been doing that a lot in absence of anything else to do. Oh she has taken some books and as much gold as she could have when she made her escape from her Master's mansion. It might have been ungrateful of her to steal his belongings but minutes after the news of his death reached her but she is after all well versed in Imperial politics. A magister of mediocre importance is still a magister. And without a fully trained apprentice to take his place the vultures in form of freshly nominated magisters without land or name would have swooped down upon her, claiming her unfit to take up her master's duty.

She is powerful in her own right and could face another young mage, probably even some of the less powerful magisters. But a literal witch hunt for her is something she could not have been ready for. Blood can only support her for as long as it flows through her veins, and there would have been dozens of her enemies, each fully supported by their former master in effort to expand their influences and gain another voice in Imperial politics. No one would have objected to Cassia's death, she has not yet became a magister after all, still a few years away from finishing her apprenticeship. Even the rats from the Circle were sure to compete, that being their only real chance to stand out from the crowd of weaklings that they are. Without a master to take them in, there is no one to teach them the secrets of blood magic, only those that truly stand out may ever hope to achieve more than respected obscurity.

Dozens of fully trained blood mages, each with at least around a dozen of slaves at their disposal, along with their families and mentors' protection. What had Hawke had? Her unfinished magical education and only nine slaves, of which she could use no more than two at once. With her own raw power she would have assuredly massacred many of her adversaries (unless the impossible happened and they banded together). With the blood magic in picture however... The power of magisters lies in their resources and experience. When planning an assault they can buy themselves a near worthless slave and use it to amplify their own strength nearly twice. And certainly use more than just two of them at the same time.

For all the restraint encouraged by Chantry, everyone is quick to momentarily abandon it in favor of furthering their own standing. It's a very important lesson that her master taught her when he first shown her blood magic. "Waste not but fear not, power is there to use it."

Cassia had absolutely no chance in the fight to come. Thus she made the only logical choice that any sane Tevinter in her position (which is altogether not that rare) could have made. She immediately prepared a letter in which she waived her master's position and property which after his heirless death was passed down upon her, packed what she could lift and left the mansion to say goodbye to her family. Technically what she did was theft and attempt to avoid the law by escape. But there is an unspoken agreement between magisters that apprentices in her position should be shown a certain amount of leisure, to grant them time and means to remove themselves from the picture or return to The Circle. They are after all fellow laetans and that in itself should carry some weight when it comes to their treatment.

Still. Without Vaeron's protection she would be just another noone. The Circle would rip her apart for the sole fact of her once being an apprentice, no other master would take her as she was already too old for that. It does not help that Cassia may have been... acting their superior, well. She was fully in her right. Their jealousy was uncalled for, how is it her fault that they are no more than pathetic excuses for true mages, that people with a speck of ambition (like her) have been working so hard to become? Their attitude is what makes them such a sore sight, that and their entitlement. Hawke has been entitled to nothing for all her life, all she's achieved she achieved by herself, a feeling of superiority is not uncalled for. And she oh so loved to point out her position to others.

So naturally, The Circle was a suicidal call. Cassia is hardly suicidal. Which only left her with self inflicted exile.

Now her family... That bit of business is unpleasant. She and her family have always been in disagreement as to the path she has chosen. Mother and father moved to Tevinter because of her birth, not wanting her to grow up on the run. To ask of her to not advance herself in a society in which she could really become someone was nothing short of cruel. They did have everything they needed for a comfortable life, Malcolm was after all a mage, a sad excuse for one, given his attitude towards blood magic but a mage still, making the whole family laetans. For them it was enough. But not for their daughter. As such, she needed to find a way to crawl out of obscurity that her parents so wished for. The Circle provided that, her own talent and drive furtherring it. But it killed whatever remnants of a normal relationship she had with her family. Oh they did not break ties, no. But when she visited home the tension had always been palpable. It only got worse when father died, as her mother and Carver somehow blamed her for it. Well, Carver did, mother never really openly said it but she did not truly feel welcome in her house.

It hurt. She knows she hurt them too.

What she also knows is that her brother was a hypocrite. Blaming her for joining the Imperial machine as a mage and then himself becoming a soldier. Only to die not a year later in Seheron.

She hated him. But his death hurt her too.

Still, no matter their differences they are a family, Bethany loves her dearly, despite her mishaps, and mother loves her too, strained and tired though that love may be. Cassia herself has hard time understanding love but she knows her family to be important, who else could she trust not to twist a dagger in her back?

She is fairly sure that Leandra blames the Imperium for what happened to her family. Dead husband, dead son, one of her daughters an apprentice to a magister. Hawke is content to let her remain in that belief. She does not like causing grief to her mother. The truth is that Both Cassia and Carver wanted more from life than their parents did. Bethany is the perfect child, not them. What her brother failed to realize was that as a mage, Cassia had limitless possibilities in the Imperium, or more likely it was just jealousy. Being the non mage child he always did feel inferior. Then again, he was only gifted with a strong body, not intellect. Maker did not want him to be more than he was and he should have accepted that. Ambition she can understand and respect, moronic drive towards an impossible future she can not.

Because really, how could he ever had hoped to be her equal without magic in his blood?

She can only imagine his outrage were he to hear their mother's announcement of going with her.

Heh, that would have been quite a sight. But it wasn't, he's dead.

Leandra though seemed not to think twice when her daughter told her about her impending exile, it was as if she wanted to leave. She probably did and was only held back by Cassia, if she's to place bets. She has hard time describing how she feels about that, she herself left her family behind to chase her dream, while her mother wanted to leave and was only staying to be close to her daughter.

Small wonder that mother felt as she did, that kind of attitude in mage family is quite literally unhealthy.

Still. Hawke can't help but feel relieved that it is not alone that she has fled. Such a far journey is weary, the gold she had stolen only lasted for so long and as she's soon learned, templars outside of Imperium are of a different sort than what she is used to. Selling a book would be a pity but Cassia would do it, without her master and his slaves there is little use for lessons on blood magic. They are also a death warrant should they to be found by templars, selling one would be neigh impossible and most of all, it would most likely be immediately reported to local Chantry. The logical thing to do would be disposing of the evidence, burning the books or just dumping them by the road. But that, Cassia can not bring herself to do. Strange it may sound but they are the only things she has left other than a couple of trinkets of little monetary value that remind her of home. While dangerous, she finds herself unwilling to part with a reminder of her old life.

By no means are they a bad read. Rituals, blades, blood and its power in relation to race, age, quantity, bodily strength as well as arcane one. Hawke finds them fascinating. Lessons on anatomy and dissection of soul itself, treaties on the subject of steel purity connection to the use of blood magic, how deep to cut, how best use the blood.

Morbid. Yet utterly fascinating.

She finished them all weeks ago. By the time they reached Antiva as sailing close to Seheron was at the time endangered... again. With Qunari gaining a momentary advantage in the never ending conflict. Ever since, she's been bored out of her mind, she can not entertain herself with practice of magic anymore, she tried, and was nearly caught. Making a fool or two (or seven as it was in one case) explode is the only real use for her magic these days. Bandits never cease to amaze Cassia in their stupidity. Even animals have better instincts, they tend to stay away from her, it's curious, how they seem to know her a threat but people rarely do. They could use some of that primal fear in them, it isn't like they are much different after all so nothing would be lost on that front.

She rubs her tanned, bare forearms as another gust of wind hits the ship. Then leans into Ferox for warmth, her own mabari that she had confiscated as a payment for a favor many years ago. Minor thing really, wiping out a gang with connections to the Guard, since she had no real allowance of any kind, only being outfitted and fed by her master, and fancied getting the famed dog breed, she had to somehow pay for it. The trader himself could not hire just anyone for the job, only mages can get away with killing someone under Guard's protection. So the man should have counted himself lucky that she accepted his plea. Because he didn't seem too happy with her taking the pup as a bonus. People are often ungrateful like that, as Cassia has learned.

She doesn't really remember what she though it would be like having a mabari, prestigious perhaps. They are rare enough that far north. She must have been in a deranged state of mind, the dog proved to be a living, walking menace. Vaeron forbid her from using the slaves to take care of Ferox as a form of lesson for not asking him beforehand. Honestly! He gave her a free pass to do whatever she wanted in her spare time and cared not for her personal dealings as long as she did his bidding, a lesson in assumption, he called it.

Well... were he some other magister he probably would have either killed it or taken it away, likely the latter. Wasting a perfectly healthy mabari would be uncharacteristic of a magister when she thinks about it. Wasting resources is a bad habit that makes one's death so much more immanent. Still, taking care of an animal nearly her mass and definitely stronger than herself was a chore, especially when combined with her studies and household duties. Which meant ordering slaves around, caring for correspondence, managing paperwork.

Carver and his simple mind could have never understood how easy his life was in relation to hers. With power comes responsibility, or in her case, more work. No small wonder that any respectable magister must have an apprentice. Managing all these mundane tasks are beneath them, then again, they have to know how to manage one's own household and its finances. With that said, taking on an apprentice and teaching him the ropes is both a necessity and relief.

Maybe it was for the best though, the Ferox responsibility issue. He only listens to her commands unless told otherwise and he's turned out to be a good companion. Maybe not for a philosophical conversation... well any conversation at all really. But she could not ask for a better confidant, not only he will never, for obvious reasons, divulge her words but she also knows that even if he could speak, he never would do so against her. Dogs are like that, loyal to the death and beyond, unlike humans. In many respects Ferox was her only friend in the Imperium. Bethany and Carver she had contact with yes, but little more than that what with her schedule. Her master frowned at games and wasting time in general, playing with slaves' children was frankly beneath her and soporati were unnerved just by her presence. Needless to say, laetan children viewed her as a threat (and rightfully so).

Leaving the girl with only her faithful dog to keep her company. At least she could expose her back to him and know it to be guarded instead of threatened.

Cassia feels a wet nose pressing into the side of her face and flinches away, knowing that her face is about to be assaulted by a slimy tongue. She gets up and stretches her stiff body. She's been there for hours, unwilling to be confined to the cargo hold where Mother and Bethany reside for the most part. She's drawing the eyes of men on deck, she knows. Her body is perhaps the best gift from her parents beside her life itself that they've given her. It's a useful thing to possess, beauty, it makes people more inviting, more trusting. As such she cares to maintain it, or used to. Her once long, jet black hair is now cut only to accent her face, not enchant it. Too much of a bother to keep it long in a situation she finds herself in. Some view her icy blue eyes as disconcerting but they are nonetheless striking, as are her features. They make for a great tool, her eyes. One contemptuous look she gives to the staring men is enough for them to loose their confidence and shift gazes.

She looks over the board and onto the looming city. Kirkwall. Her supposed new home.

Right.

If Mother is to be believed then they should have an estate in the city, she could live like that. After making herself an acquaintance in certain circles that is. Free Marches are after all free. That's a major problem for a mage like her. While completing her magister apprenticeship is now forever out of her reach it doesn't mean she can't ever become one. Or at least be as powerful as one. She scowls at the thought of all the hindrances that she knows are sure to slow her down. Templars for one, they supposedly have a strong presence and political power base in this city. In a normal country this would be a good thing, The Order exists to protect mages after all, only those heretics have it all backwards and instead of doing that, they repress mages, closing them in Circles as if they are cattle, presuming to know better than magi themselves the dangers of the Fade.

What a sorry state of affairs. In Cassia's personal opinion it's the Orlesians' fault. To view magic as a curse and deny mages their obvious rights is preposterous. What is most laughable about the whole situation is how hypocritical people all across Thedas are when it comes to that subject. They say it's not right for magi to rule over common folk because of their birthright... by that logic they should overthrow all their monarchies and follow that up with locking up all the aristocrats in a tower of some sort. The argument about magi possessing power is just pitiable, lets see how going against a patrician would end for any plebeian. All of it is a moot point anyway because it is Maker himself that grants magic as a sign of his favor. Who better to rule over people?

How can magi outside the Imperium think otherwise is beyond her.

It grates on her nerves that because of it she will have to find a way to practice magic in secrecy, then again, it shouldn't be too hard in an estate with a noble status. If the word noble means something similar to patrician anyway.

But it should be possible at least... she never did thank her parents for moving to Tevinter. Life on a run from Templars seems terribly... sad an excuse for a life. She was not truly affected by her father's death as they were on extremely bad terms, still, Cassia regrets the conflict itself. Were she a better daughter she would apologize to her mother for all the grief she knows to have caused... before she too, passes away.

In the future, maybe.

For now she needs to make herself at home in this new city. As an apprentice to a magister she's received education even better than that offered in the Circle, thus she knows quite the number of languages, Orlesian, Ander, Antivan. All of them with origins in Tevene were not hard to understand, and Trade tongue was made to be simple, she never had much occasion to practice though and wonders how long will it take her to get used to the local dialect. Mother says it will not be long at all but she insisted on talking it back home, so at least Bethany will know it. She herself never much cared to study local dialects in the cultural cesspool that Free Marches are.

She gazes upon the giant statues on both sides of the passage into city. Old, ancient even, most likely forged in Imperial times by the milion of slaves said to have been living here. Their sorry state does not fill her with optimism towards living here. Why, whoever let such a thing happen in Minrathous would hang, surely. It is telling, the condition of buildings and its statues, It tells Cassia of the neglect nature of Kirkwall's citizens, of their lacking care for aesthetics and of their strained treasury. Unless the statues were left unattended purposefully, which is even worse. Whatever the case may be, Hawke already knows that the city is assured to be filthy and malodorous without ever setting foot in it.

She scoffs and turns her eyes to the grating a couple of feet behind her, it's probably good idea to rouse the family and make ready for departure. With that thought, she descends beneath the deck to search for the rest. After locating their hammocks, she nudges her sister and mother as they both went asleep. Irresponsible, thieves are a menace everywhere. The corner of her mouth twitches uncomfortably and she kneels down to check if her knapsack, the one containing books has remained undisturbed.

"Yes Marian what is it?" Murmurs Mother, not yet fully awake. Hawke tenses up and ignores the inquiry, her tomes remain untouched and she makes a mental note not to leave them unprotected like that again.

"I'm sorry," She better be "I just... never mind, what's the matter Cassia?" She relaxes and turns her head to look at Leandra and Bethany, blinking away their sleepiness.

"We're about to dock. I thought it prudent to wake you both, seeing as you like to pass your time sleeping." She makes a show of securing her rucksack on back ...she does not mean for her words to come out like an accusation but they have. She looks down on her feet and leaves after a couple seconds of silence, grabbing another bag on her way, clothes probably, since she has little problem with carrying it. It's shameful to admit but her sister carries more weight than herself, is it not supposed to be the older sibling that helps the younger one? Cassia has never cared much for physical effort, she's paying for it with blisters and sores all over her weakened body now.

It only takes a minute or two before she is joined by her family on the deck. Hawke takes care not to look at them. Only when they draw closer to the port does she see something unusual. Cassia honestly didn't think her mood could be soured even more today but maker sees it fit to prove the mange wrong as her eyes land upon the thick crowd, she can hear the commotion from a couple hundred yards away, not a good sign, loud crowd is always a trouble. It usually means there is violence waiting to happen.

"That doesn't seem good," comments Bethany from her side and Hawke finally acknowledges her presence.

"No it does not." She looks over the port, noticing the abundance of small ships, boats really. "Mother, is Kirkwall port usually this busy?"

"Not that I remember, but I haven' been here for a long time."

The older of two siblings looks around and notes that the captain of the ship is also looking at the commotion with an uneasy expression on his face.

"_Do you know what's happening?_" She shouts to him in Antivan.

"_No idea, they look Fereldan though._" He turns to his crew "_Watch out men! Stay on ship till I say!_" He walks over to Hawkes "_And to you I wish best of luck, Kirkwall can be a shit place at best of times._"

"_And I thank you for the warning, along with the... cruise._" The man laughs.

"_No need to lie birdie, a word of advice, don't skew your face like you do when looking at people, gets a knife in back. Pleasure doing business with you._"

"_...I will remember._" With that he walks away to oversee his men. He didn't even bow, it's irritating how no one shows her due respect.

"They appear to be Fereldan." What are they doing here in that number?

"Fereldans?" She nods her head to Mother's pointless question. Has she not just said so?

"This day just keeps getting better. Ugh, well, lets see what the mess is about and carry on."

She is the second one, right after Ferox- to step onto solid ground when the ship comes to a stop and she nearly falls over, barely capable of standing on her two feet, after weeks spent on the sea even the solid ground seems to be swimming. After dropping her pack she leans on her knees, taking steadying breaths and scowling at the familiar laughter back on the ship. She feels a delicate hand on her back and turns to see Bethany's reassuring expression. Mother standing just beside her, already moving away to investigate. How comes they don't get this kind of reaction escapes her. In addition to that, the port smells as bad as she imagined.

She pales at the feeling of bile rising in her throat, normally she would swat her sister's hand away but now she focuses more on the fact that she's about to throw up.

"You feeling better?" Asks Beth after she finished.

She only shoots Her a dirty look. It's at that time when Mother arrives again, with a redheaded woman in tow. Cassia thinks it's a woman, she seems to be one. She has to admit to never seeing one quite so... well, big, magnificent even! And finds herself mildly fascinated, she must have been dissecting her with her eyes for she feels an elbow nudging her in side, there at Beth's behest.

"Girls, this is Aveline Vallen. She was kind enough to tell me of the cause for this situation, do please introduce yourselves." Cassia forces her stomach to behave and straightens out, then inclines her head in a greeting.

"Cassia Hawke." She is met with a nod to that and feels mildly insulted even though logically, she knows that the woman means no disrespect. She doesn't know any better after all.

"I'm Bethany Hawke, pleased to meet you." Cassia rolls her eyes at the way her sister speaks in her fluent Trade and how she shakes hands with the bear of a woman. No really, how does one even grow this tall? She has to be at least ten inches taller than herself and 5.6 feet is not laughable for a woman!

"Likewise, your mother told me you've just arrived from the north by a ship, well, no wonder you don't know what's happening here." She glances at Ferox as he sniffs at her hand, then reaches out and scratches him behind ear to the company of his pleased growls. A war dog indeed.

"Indeed we have, and no we don't, so do enlighten us if you will?"

"A Blight has began in Ferelden, this here? We're all refugees fleeing from it." What?

WHAT?!

"_You've got to be shitting me! A Blight right when we plowing left home? This is just..._" She can't hold back the laughter, it's just too ridiculous, what odds?! For hundreds of years there was no real threat from the darkspawn and now this? Right when her master dies? That's just... funny, in its terrible timing.

She notices Mother's disapproving glare and realizes her slip of tongue, it's unseemly for a lady to speak that way, from the confused expression on Aveline's face she deduces that she must have slipped back into Tevene too. Oh well.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. Sometimes you can't help but laugh lest you end up crying. I said it's just our luck to leave home and end up next door to a Blight."

And really it is, the irony of escaping her death at hands of the envious mages of Tevinter only to end up in a region near the new Blight. The odds are truly incredible. But where else is left to go?

"I think I can understand." Cassia thinks the woman just might.

"Still, what is happening here?" The redhead frowns at her question.

"The Guard is not letting refugees further through, though I suppose that doesn't really apply to you does it?"

"Maker I hope so." She hopes that these guards are intelligent enough to recognize both the quality and origin of their clothing, which while not extravagant are clearly not of tasteless southern make. And Mother is an Amell, that should count too.

"This just isn't right," Murmurs the youngest Hawke, indeed it isn't, then again, it depends on the point of view and while Cassia knows it her sacred duty to serve men she also knows that it's just not possible, not here, not now. Minrathous does not close its gates to refugees only because they have nothing to give. If they have nothing else, people can always sell themselves into slavery to give their families a chance. This here? Just not right.

"We have family in the city, and we're not Fereldans," She pauses for a moment, she is helpful, this woman, debts are to be repaid. And honestly! Just look at her! How could someone not be awed by that monster in woman's body? Having an acquaintance like that would indeed be something, even if she is a soporati.

What did her mother even feed her as a child anyway?

"Come with us." She finally says.

"Hm?" …

"Or do you think you have better chances to get in by yourself?" Mother smiles, probably for all the wrong reasons. Beth just looks tired and not really focused anymore.

"I... no, thank you I will."

"Don't thank me just yet." Ah formalities, at least she shows some due gratitude. "Come everyone, let's see what we can do." With that she puts her knapsack back on and leads their group to the gate.

Ugh, crowd. What a barbaric country for plebeians not to recognize their betters instantly. She might not be covered in magistrati leathers but one can instantly say that she is a patrician, if not laetan, for people to know she's of magi class would prove problematic. As such she finds herself pushing through the often disgruntled Fereldans, she cares not, Aveline and Ferox along with her family trail behind her and no one really finds the courage to accuse her of anything with such a company. She finally pushes through the crowd and finds herself facing a very irritated guardsman.

"Get back to the crowd you lot."

The nerve!

"You seem to mistake us for refugees, which we aren't." She is about ready to lash out when one of the guards makes to grab her but luckily (for him) his officer stops him. He crosses his arms and takes a long look at them. Then at the rest of the crowd and again at them. The competency of Kirkwall guard seems to be in decline, taking this long to asses fitting dark leathers and fine materials her trousers, shirt underneath and protective parts are made of. In Cassia's case anyway, Mother and Bethany are wearing dresses though still of a good make. All that in addition to tanned skin that Fereldans seem to lack. He gives their group's newest addition a passing glance but says nothing about her.

"Alright, alright, go talk to captain Ewald, I'm just here to keep refues from climbing the walls."

She smiles at him, too pleased with perspective of getting away from the noise (which seems to have doubled in volume at the sight of them being let through) to care too much for his ignorance.

Captain Ewald, she surmises once she sees him, would make for an imposing figure, were it not for his crooked posture and bandaged head, he eyes them warily as they approach. As do other guards stationed around.

"Yes? What's your business?" Well at least he recognizes them as not just another refugee group.

"Family business, captain," the mage says. "Here to visit Gamlen Amell." He visibly relaxes at that.

"I know Gamlen, a drunkard and sore sight for eyes he is. You say you're his family?" Drunkard?

"Em, Gamlen is a nobleman in the city, of the Amell family?" Bethany sounds about as certain of her words as Cassia is that this day is the best one of her short life.

"The only Gamlen I know of is many things but not a nobleman. Still, I could bring him to you the next time he comes by. If you wait that is." Not a nobleman?

"I... yes we will wait." She glances at the pavement, dirtied with blood too fresh for being even a day old.

What else to do but wait?

* * *

It takes three days, and she may not stress this enough. Three days. For Gamlen to arrive, and when he does it's with news of losing Amell estate to a debt, Maker damned debt of all things. Not a crime, nor blackmail or political games but gambling debts!

She almost strangled him right on the spot, she did try. Not the best or most sophisticated first impression but what does she care for his opinion? Running an estate is not terribly costly, not for a patrician. One has to be incredibly dim witted or unlucky to loose a fortune of the size Mother had been talking about. Respect from such a man is not something Cassia needs or even wants.

Luckily for him, Aveline was there. Else she knows not what would have happened, the behemoth of a woman, who in three days time they got to know a little bit, restrained Hawke when she lost her temper and attempted a daylight murder of her uncle.

As if it wasn't enough, they were given a "choice" of paying off ****his ****debts (she did not miss that fact in the elf's explanation) as a way into the city, effectively making them slaves, if on a long leash. When she first talked with Athenril she felt like going back and finishing what she started during her little episode. Telling anyone she was a magister's apprentice without her consent is, in her eyes- treason. They have not even met yet and that elf already knew all Gamlen knew of Hawkes. Still, working with smugglers seems a better idea than a mercenary company. What with the possibility of making connections in the underground for future's less legal escapades that she knows she will have to undertake to practice her magic in peace. The estate, gold, her about to begin servitude... To a plebeian of all things! And an elf while she's at it! She can already tell how much that skank enjoys the irony. She has to remember that in the end it's all just a means to an end. She has to look at this that way. Lest she looses her mind.

And her soul right thereafter.

* * *

Wow, this is a long-ass introduction to the fic that has been in the back of my mind for almost a year now. A Tevinter origins Hawke that is NOT opposed to Imperium ideals yet action happens in Kirkwall for she is forced to flee. This will not be a retelling, more like an interpretation based on game's skeleton.

I leave Hawke's character interpretation to you, I am ever so curious what you think of this piece so share your thoughts. (Also, I always imagined Anderfels to be coated in snow and ice, then I read it's lore and was like -wat-)


End file.
